


trinkets

by slythos



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 5+1, Fluff, M/M, Out of Control, also underage drinking, rated for language, some unintentional sexual innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-07 19:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slythos/pseuds/slythos
Summary: Five times Jaemin wears the bracelet and one time he doesn't.





	trinkets

**Author's Note:**

> watch closely fellas, this is how you mess up a perfectly good, fluffy prompt.
> 
> special thanks to sarah for the juicy renmin inside info and to honey soph for everything else uwu ily

 

> **I.**

  
  
Jaemin wears the bracelet before he does.  
  
Renjun finds him in the bathroom, hammered out of his wits with his back propped against the bathtub and his head hung forward.  
  
“Hey. I heard you’re dying,” he says, sticking his head inside.  
  
When Jaemin looks up, he sees him smiling. Drunk smiling. His face flushes, more red peppering the tips of his ears and his lips. They’re barely even halfway through five bottles of soju and a few more of Chinese vodka for tonight and he's already lost. Donghyuck’s right; he’s an absolute lightweight. Jaemin laughed it off a few hours ago, more owning up to the charge now that he thinks about it.  
  
“Oh hey!” Jaemin hiccups, patting the space next to him. “Come in, come in. There’s room for one more!”  
  
Renjun slips in and sinks to the cold floor facing Drunk Jaemin with his drunk smile, seeing that it’s wider now that he’s up close. It always gets Renjun how much and how broad this guy can smile. He feels tired for him.  
  
“Are you okay?” Renjun asks. “Are you dizzy or something?”  
  
“No, no I’m fine!” Jaemin answers, shaking his head as he squints. “Hey Renjun, you didn’t tell me you brought your twin. Hey there, handsome. Looking good tonight?”  
  
Yeah. He’s so not fine.  
  
“So sorry Renjun’s twin, though.” He juts his bottom lip out. “I only got one gift.”  
  
“What gift?”  
  
Jaemin whips out a black velvet box and holds it against his cheek. “The best gift ever!”  
  
He reaches out and pulls Renjun’s wrist, holding it in place as he struggles to open the box with his other hand. Renjun reaches over to help but he swings the box away from his reach, clicking his tongue. “My gift. I open it.”  
  
Jaemin is already ridiculously stubborn when sober. He’s even more of a pain when intoxicated.  
  
“Fine then.”  
  
Renjun lets him struggle on his own for a few painful minutes, feeling a silly surge of accomplishment when Jaemin finally figures out how to pry the lid open with his nose and teeth. Jaemin cheers then turns the box to him. “Look, isn’t it pretty?”  
  
Renjun barely catches the shiny gold before Jaemin yanks the thing out of its box and starts to work it around his wrist.  
  
It’s a rose-gold Daniel Wellington bracelet.  
  
“Wait, what?”  
  
“Shh.”  
  
Jaemin’s eyes crosses and he looks more ridiculous with his pink tongue sticking slightly out trying to clinch the bracelet around Renjun’s wrist. After a lot of pitiful attempts, he succeeds, leaning against the edge of Jeno’s bath tub smugly. “There!” Jaemin hiccups, flashing the haziest, most smug grin he’s ever had the audacity to make. “Happy birthday!”  
  
Renjun blinks at the perfect fit. The cuff glints happily under the fluorescent lighting but it somehow manages not to make sense despite the unmistakable cold pressing against his skin.  
  
“It comes with a pair!” Jaemin chirps brightly, like it’s the very explanation Renjun needs, and holds up his own hand. A silver band strikingly similar to his own loosely wraps around the curve of it, shining as bright as Jaemin’s drunken eyes.  
  
“Are these . . . ”  
  
Before Renjun can finish, Jaemin clasps a hand over his own mouth, reels himself over the edge of the tub and throws up with gusto.  
  
Renjun laughs.  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

> **II.**

 

Jaemin wears the bracelet to soccer practice.  
  
And he’s late, as always.  
  
Renjun counts thirty minutes before he sees him racing out to the edge of the field clad in his jersey and his usual brilliant flash of teeth. It’s blinding even from a mile away, taking up almost half of his face and turning his eyes into slits. It should’ve been refreshing to look at, if only Renjun isn’t pissed at him.  
  
“I did not sign up for this,” he grumbles, taking his hoodie and knapsack into his arms.  
  
Jaemin cackles. The idiot. “Sorry. Did Yuta give you a hard time again? I told him it’s not your fault. Tuesdays are hectic for me.”  
  
“No. He’s actually this close to taking me into the team instead. Since I’m the one who’s always on time.”  
  
Jaemin waves to Yuta across the field, grin unfading. “Hey, that’s an idea! Why not?”  
  
“Ha. No thanks.” Renjun’s eyes drop, catching sight of his wrist.    
  
Shining around it is the silver half to the Daniel Wellington coupl— _what_ was Jaemin thinking when he gave it to him? He knows he’s completely smashed when he did, but before that, he should be sober when he bought it right? Among his friends, Jaemin likes to pick out the most questionable gifts. Two years ago, Jaemin got him a necklace with his initials, HRJ dangling in some kind of gold. Last year’s gifts, after Renjun’s insistence on nothing as expensive as his previous one, were a bouquet of red roses and a Moomin plushie half his size. To which both Jeno and Donghyuck found absolutely endearing and hilarious for some reason, because Renjun caught them snickering between themselves behind his back.  
  
But Renjun’s parents didn’t raise him to be picky with gifts so he shrugged his concerns off and thanked the giver. Sometimes, he just wants to figure out how Jaemin’s mind works because most of the time he’s lost.  
  
This year, it’s couple bracelets. Not just a bracelet. _Couple bracelets._ Renjun feels lost more than ever.  
  
“You’re gonna lose it. You better take it off,” Renjun says, holding up before he strays down that thought again.  
  
“Take off the what?”  
  
“The bracelet,” Renjun answers, hiking the bag further up his back. “Why are you still wearing that?”  
  
“Why not?” Jaemin crouches down to knot the laces on his soccer shoes. “It’s pretty! I think I’ll keep it on.”  
  
Right. Of course he’ll want to keep that on regardless of the fact that it’s half a pair meant for couples and that he gave the other half of it to someone who isn’t his lover. Obviously, he just loves the glitter. Half the reason why he picked it as a birthday gift might be because he found it pretty, which is a very Jaemin thing to do. No surprises there.  
  
Jaemin’s mind is a silly maze most of the time. But his love for trinkets isn’t rocket science.  
  
A hand swipes the hoodie on Renjun’s arm aside, pulling him back from another reverie. “You’re not wearing yours!”  
  
“Oh. Right. I forgot to wear it.”  
  
Jaemin frowns.  
  
“Was I supposed to?”  
  
“Were you supposed to?” Jaemin shrugs. “Uh, yeah since I gave it and it’s the only polite thing to do.” He frowns again. “You didn’t lose it, did you?”  
  
Renjun hums, pretending to think hard. “Nah, I don’t think so.”  
  
Jaemin breaks out a hundred-watt smile. “Wear it next time! It’s for good morale!”  
  
He leans down, steals a quick kiss on his cheek and sprints out into the open field with his arms flailing.  
  
He stills, caught in momentary daze. But it always happens, so it doesn’t get him for too long. The spot where his lips touched warms up though, that’s the only part that doesn’t seem to wear off easily. It tingles, like it always does and his breath falters a little and when the little goes on longer he blinks and shrugs it off because it’s not supposed to affect him. After all these years of being friends with Na Jaemin, God forbid, he should’ve been used to it that it doesn’t faze him anymore. Especially since he has “so much love to give out” to almost every living thing around him. Not the cheek kisses though. They’re usually reserved for him, Jeno and Donghyuck. And only if he’s feeling extra affectionate and like holding it in might cause him to combust. In a sense, Donghyuck and Jaemin are alike in that manner. Skinship is their shared thing, so it make sense that they click with each other the best. Jeno and Renjun are the more inward friends in the group, but that means less when you throw the clingy ones into the mix. They should no longer do things to you. That’s the mantra. Back hugs become a part of the norm, cheek kisses no longer shockers. It’s a normal thing in his circle of friends.  
  
Not to the people around them though.  
  
When Renjun twirls to head back to the bleachers where he left his other friend, Yukhei stands there with his mouth wide open.  
  
“Renjun!” He gasps. Dramatically, because that’s just how he is. “You didn’t tell me you got yourself a boyfriend!”  
  
“What?” Renjun furrows his brows, Yukhei’s existence occurring to him belatedly. “Oh. What, that? That wasn’t my boyfriend. That was Jaemin.”  
  
Yukhei flings his arms. “HOW IS HE NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND?! HE KISSED YOUR CHEEK AND GOT AWAY WITH IT!”  
  
Renjun takes large strides and pushes him back to their seats. Yukhei is taller than him by a foot and larger than him by a lot but since shock made him flimsy, it’s easy to jostle him around. But it’s not like size is ever an issue in Renjun’s tendency to manhandle.  
  
“That’s a friend, Jaemin Na. That one reason why I’m here since he asked me to come to his practice every afternoon.”  
  
Yukhei blinks still. “Uh, so, not your boyfriend, but you come to his practice every day?”  
  
Renjun shrugs. “Got nothing better to do until 5 PM. Might as well humor him.”  
  
It’s imperative that Renjun attends his afternoon soccer practice because reasons. It’s like that guy is allergic to solitude, and he decides Renjun is a must-have during practices. It might also be half because he just needs someone to hold on to his stuff since he can’t trust his gym locker. Renjun is his most logical choice, thanks to his one hour break before club and assignments. Both Jeno and Donghyuck have their schedules _magically_ packed in this exact hour so he’s down with no other options.  
  
Poor Jaemin. Poorer Renjun.  
  
Yukhei scans the field, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed. “That’s him, right? Number 9?”  
  
A flash of floppy brown hair darts into view, bounding about with a ball rolling between his legs and charging guys in his tail. In the distance, Renjun can make out Jaemin’s sweat-adorned face and drenched locks as he ducks and weaves past blockers on the way to the goal post. At an opening, Jaemin kicks the ball hard straight past the diving goal keeper. His entire team bursts into cheers along with a few spectators scattered all over the bleachers. Yukhei claps, lips parted in amusement as he jabs a thumb at Jaemin.  
  
“I like him. He’s cool. Have you seen that?!” Yukhei says to Renjun, grinning. “Introduce me later okay?”  
  
Renjun catches sight of Jaemin in the field waving his arm at him with one of his _“Did you see that?!”_ smiles. He nods at Yukhei. “Sure.”  
  
He does not have a chance though, because Yukhei gets a call of distress from his club and has to leave before soccer practice is over. Renjun follows, after a text from Donghyuck demanding his presence at the Glee Club. _I need you here, comrade. My best friend. Before I lose it and eat everything in here because of these fucking Neanderthals._  
  
“Do you really have to leave?” Jaemin pouts, still sweaty from practice when Renjun beckons him over.  
  
“Donghyuck’s gonna have my head if I don’t.” He hands him over his knapsack and hoodie. Jaemin holds his arm up, and that’s when Renjun notices it. Or the lack thereof.  
  
“Jaemin.”  
  
“Yes, you who’re about to leave me?”  
  
Renjun points at his bare wrist. “Where’s your bracelet?”  
  
Jaemin follows his finger then widens his eyes. “Oh no.”  
  
“Didn’t I tell you to take it off?”  
  
“But I didn’t want to!” he whines, looking disconcerted as his head whips back and forth to search the grass around their feet.  
  
His pocket buzzes again with more urgency. “Nana, I have to go.”  
  
“I’ll find it,” Jaemin says firmly, grasping Renjun’s hand briefly before sprinting out to the field again. “You go! I’ll find it! Don’t worry! I’ll call you later!”  
  
He wants to yell that he isn’t really upset about it so it’s unnecessary. Jaemin has every right to, on the other hand, since he bought that bracelet. It’s his money and loss so it doesn’t make sense why he’d even assure Renjun. He lets it slide, the incessant buzzing from his phone forces him to rush out of the field so he forgets about the entire thing completely by the time he reaches the Glee Club.  
  
That evening, he receives a call from Jeno asking him of Jaemin’s whereabouts.  
  
Renjun scrambles up from his bed where he lay previously, phone against his ear. “What do you mean he’s not home yet?” He quickly takes note of the time by his bed. It’s quarter to 8. He should be home by now.  
  
“I mean he’s not home yet. Does Donghyuck know something?”  
  
As if on cue, Donghyuck steps into their shared room, rubbing a towel against his damp chocolate hair.  
  
“He doesn’t. We’re together the entire afternoon.”  
  
That catches Donghyuck’s interest, raising both his eyebrows in question. “What’s up?”  
  
“Jaemin’s not home yet. Jeno’s been trying to reach him.”  
  
“Is that Hyuck?”  
  
Donghyuck flops next to Renjun in his bed, tapping the speaker button on his phone. “Wasn’t he in soccer practice? Maybe he’s still there?”  
  
Jeno’s voice bleeds through in loud speaker. “Why would he still be there? Practice ends at 6.”  
  
Then it hits Renjun between the eyes, clear as day. The huge possibility of his hunch being correct makes his stomach sink because it makes sense in every way, considering Jaemin’s outstanding tenacity and the fact that he hasn’t called yet when he promised he will.  
  
Renjun groans. “I think I know where he is.”  
  
Donghyuck raises his brow. “You should’ve said so earlier.”  
  
"Really? Where?”  
  
          
  
  
  
  
  
Renjun is ready to punch a bitch the moment he steps into the dimly lit field with Donghyuck in tow. Two lone lampposts on each end barely illuminate the wide expanse so a pall curtain of black and green covers over it.  
  
There, he spots him at a far end of the field, wielding a beam of light coming from his hand and scanning the blades of grass around him like a sad, sad boy with his shoulders sagged pathetically.  
  
“Ah,” Renjun hisses under his breath in between pants. “The idiot.”  
  
“What the fuck is he looking for?” Donghyuck asks, then yells through cupped hands. “Hey! Na Jaemin! You idiot!”  
  
“Let’s try not to beat him up. He’s looking for his bracelet.”  
  
“What bracelet?” Donghyuck scowls. “All this trouble for a measly bracelet?”  
  
“You know him.”  
  
“Can I punch him at least? For Jeno.” Donghyuck trudges straight to him, yelling out flurry of profanities on his way.  
  
Na Jaemin is clumsy. They’ve long since established that the very first day they met when he tripped on his own shoes as he walked up to Renjun with a book in hand, probably to inquire him about it. Renjun remembered catching Jaemin into his arms and it was a picture-perfect, almost drama-like scenario as the latter looks up with a sheepish smile on his face and a cheery apology.  
  
Oh and uh, he’s also very weird in an overly-friendly fashion that many can easily mistake as flirtatious. A sentimental idiot, to put on top. But Renjun’s willing to bet the entire week worth of his allowance he didn’t mean to worry everyone. His phone probably died on him or something that’s why they couldn’t reach him.  
  
Donghyuck yells something at him and Jaemin says something back, something that sounds like a dead phone and the kind keeper followed by a string of whiny apologies and yelps with each hit Donghyuck lands on him.  
  
Out of the corner of Renjun’s eye, he spots it barely under the screen light from his phone, a shy silver reflecting it and peeking through layers of blades of grass. Renjun bends down to pick it up, thumbing the earth and dew off the smooth metal. He studies the not-so-special engraving of the brand. It would’ve been a tad bit better if it was customized, with an etched Na Jaemin across the surface, matched with Huang Renjun on gold.  
  
That . . . would’ve been extra embarrassing to wear.  
  
It’s just a bracelet. Sure it’s Daniel Wellington and pretty expensive but it can be replaced. He can’t begin to grasp why Jaemin would even go through the trouble of looking for it in this haystack at the expense of his own safety.  
  
“Oh my god you found it!”  
  
Renjun feels his feet leave the ground and yelps when his eyes spin round. He drops to his feet, nearly knocking himself over if it isn’t for Jaemin’s strong arms holding him in place. His teeth flashes bright, cheeks and nose tint pink due to the cold. “Do you know how much I love you?!”  
  
Renjun blinks at the proximity, at his arms around his waist, at everything in the very moment. “Uh . . .”  
  
_“I love you.”_ Jaemin sniffles. “Thank you for finding the bracelet.”  
  
_Right_.  
  
“You’re welcome?”  
  
“This is why we’re here?” Donghyuck scowls, pointing at the bracelet. He stops when he sees it then shoves his face close to the cuff. “Oh. This is—”  
  
“Shh,” Jaemin cuts him off, shoving his face away. He turns back to Renjun, with the widest of his smiles today. “Shall we go?”  


 

 

 

 

 

> **III.**

 

Jaemin wears the bracelet to Renjun’s art exhibit.  
  
“And you did not,” Jaemin whines after finding out about Renjun’s treachery. Pouting. Frowning. His lips pop when he does that, chin crinkling that it’s ridiculous to watch. Renjun’s laugh bounces off despite the chattering crowd in the hallway. “Did I say something funny?!”  
  
“No. But you kind of look like that when you do that.” He points at a portrait behind Jaemin, guffawing when Jaemin turns and jumps at the sight of the sneering she-devil painting right above him. “The resemblance is uncanny!”  
  
Jaemin huffs. “In what universe?”  
  
He starts to make more faces and at the end of the hall, Renjun’s stomach aches from all the laughing. They make a turn to the right. Renjun sobers up a bit and gestures at the paintings along the hall that cater various new styles, mostly abstract and cubism. Jaemin nods along to what he’s saying, eyes lingering on each painting in this wing to try to make sense of the splashes and geometrical shapes. It’s something Renjun appreciates so much so he patiently waits. Not everyone actually takes the time to stare and appreciate paintings of these styles. Most of the time, a brief eye contact is spared before they jump to another one without taking in the meaning beyond the weird, seemingly random splatter and swirl of angry and calm colors. For most people, abstract paintings are more or less relatively the same so nothing special really stands out to them; wherein fact they’re not and each of them has their own story to tell, like everyone. Like every other painting.  
  
It’s heartwarming in a way, that Jaemin actually pays close attention to one of Renjun’s passion. Painting. And it irks him more how the weird static in his brain translates into a small campfire flickering across his chest, the hearth burning warmer, the longer he thinks about it.  
  
Jaemin points at a weird huddle of rectangles on a cubism painting. “Ren, this looks like Moomin.”  
  
Renjun frowns, the statement dousing the campfire which is starting to heat up considerably. “Is that all you see?”  
  
The taller’s face falls. “Uh . . . no?”  
  
Okay. Renjun takes it back. Maybe this guy just wants to find silly Easter eggs like this in paintings.  
  
“But it really looks like Moomin though?”  
  
“ _Everything_ looks like Moomin to you.”  
  
Jaemin rubs his nape and mutters. “I wonder why?”  
  
“Have you been even listening to what I said? Or am I just exhausting my precious brain cells over here?”  
  
“I swear I’m listening!” Jaemin looks like he has a lot more to say but pauses instead. “Can we see your painting now?”  
  
Renjun sighs. “It’s right over at the end of this hall. Saved the best for the last.”  
  
“Cool!” Jaemin takes his hand and tugs him. “Let’s go!”  
  
Hand in hand, they jog farther down the hall that leads up to a small conference room filled with more artworks put together by the Art Club. The small room gets a tad bit smaller with the number of guests, as the room has the highlight of the entire exhibit. Streamers and decorations out of recycled bottles and various kinds of paper hang from the ceiling, dotted with handcrafted paper roses and fairy lights. Each corner of the room has a different gimmick going on; one sporting sci-fi themed crafts is brandished curtains of silver and gray color templates while another one is peppered gold and white to show off modern interpretation of classic art.  
  
“This . . . wow.” Jaemin gives out a soft gasp the moment they step in, twirling around slowly to gape at everything before his eyes. “You did this?”  
  
“Everyone in the club,” Renjun replies, grinning at the unlit disco lights he hung himself the night before (Donghyuck’s idea). “Actually, Donghyuck helped out too. He’s responsible for 80% that’s happening on the ceiling.”  
  
Jaemin looks up and giggles at the cave-like drawings of animals and close to ten variations of the sun in red and orange pastels. Renjun grips his hand. “Let’s go this way.”  
  
He leads him to a wall of four paintings, illustrations of the same scenery but of different times of the day and seasons of the year. Bronze plaques are set below each painting with a Chinese character embossed on each.  
  
The taller points, forming a small “O” with his lips. “This yours?”  
  
“They’re called ‘Stand Alone’,” Renjun smiles softly. “Standing alone on the same ground as everything around them moves on. Rain drops, sun rises, leaves drift, snow falls. These are the Chinese characters for Drops, Rises, Drifts, Falls. Four scenes. Four feelings.”  
  
When Renjun turns to check on Jaemin, he sees him staring at him. He isn’t smiling or anything. He’s looking at him just like how he looks at those paintings along the halls: careful. Scrutinizing. As if trying to find the Easter eggs not only in Renjun’s face but in his very soul.  
  
A thing about Jaemin’s eyes: they pierce and slice through flesh. The campfire burns again, but this time, its warmth creeps way up to Renjun’s cheeks. He looks away when Jaemin’s smiling eyes meets his before he burns completely inside out.  
  
“I love these paintings. They’re very relatable.” Jaemin muses.  
  
“Understandable Na Jaemin since you look like a rocking tree.” Donghyuck materializes in between them, chewing as he drapes his arms over their shoulders and looks up at the frames.  
  
Jeno steps up front, pointing at the nearest painting. “Yeah. Jaemin, look this is you. A soggy piece of wood.”  
  
Jaemin squirms free, frowning. “Can you bother another innocent soul? There’s only so much Donghyuck and Jeno I can take.”  
  
Donghyuck makes a face, making Renjun laugh.  
  
“But we brought food,” Jeno announces as he holds up a plastic bag full of junk food with another one of his eyesmiles. “To congratulate our aspiring artist and vice president!”  
  
“It turned out really well, not bad.” Donghyuck nods, looking around. He stops at the ceiling, grins and nudges Jeno. “Look up and see what real art looks like.”  
  
Jeno looks up. “Did a kid drew that on?”  
  
“Ya,” the smaller deadpans. “I did.”  
  
Jeno shrugs. “I’m not wrong then. Oof! No! Donghyuck, ah! No kisses! Bad! Boy! Gerroff!”  
  
“Hey guys not here, you’re gonna ruin something!”  
  
On the way out in search for a less crowded space where Donghyuck can freely have his kissing spree without damage, Donghyuck falls beside Renjun. They toddle behind Jeno and Jaemin who’re busily chatting about the Moomin and Bongsik look-a-likes Jaemin found on the paintings after carefully “analyzing” them. He presses Renjun against his side, tugging slightly at the neck. “So, no bracelet?”  
  
“Bracelet?”  
  
“Yeah. You’re not wearing the couple bracelet.”  
  
Oh. So he knows about it. Probably Jeno, too. “You noticed that?”  
  
“Dude, I notice everything. I just don’t divulge it to the public often. So, why not?”  
  
Renjun shrugs, which is kind of hard to do when you get another arm constricting movement. “I’m not fond of trinkets. I don’t even wear wrist watches that much.”  
  
Donghyuck hums. “Right.”  
  
“But Jaemin likes them. Give it a week at most, you’ll see a different trinket around his wrist.”  
  
“Nah." Donghyuck squints. “He seems attached to that bracelet.”  
  
Jaemin laughs at something Jeno has said from up ahead.  
  
“He just really likes his trinkets so much,” Renjun says.  
  
Jaemin looks back, smiles at them before looping an arm through Jeno’s.  
  
Donghyuck hums again, giving Renjun an abstract once over before turning. “Sure.”  
  


 

 

 

 

 

> **IV.**

  
  
Renjun is wrong. Jaemin still wears it to school.  
  
To soccer practice. Every day. Every weekend. On more occasions than he can actually count with his fingers.  
  
But he’s still pretty sure Jaemin will eventually grow tired of the same cold metal against his skin and replace it with something much more beautiful, maybe even more expensive. Probably half of the gift they’ve given someone else for their birthday. Another half to another couple bracelet. Who knows, maybe it’s about time one of Jaemin’s other friends celebrates their birthday so it becomes a perfect opportunity for him to get one for himself and the celebrant. It’s a Jaemin thing to do.  
  
Because if there’s anything that’s constant about Jaemin, it's his love for trinkets and the outstanding ability to make everyone around him feel like they’re everything to him.  
  
Renjun stares at the rose gold ruefully, thumbing across the engraving again and again. That’s exactly what he’s trying to do by not wearing this. He needs to extinguish the fires. But he just can’t help but wish Jaemin continues to start a few more of them at the same time. Again and again, so there’s a lot of them that Renjun can’t be bothered to put out anymore.  
  
“The bracelet has done nothing wrong, Injunnie. Stop looking at it like that.” Jeno snickers.  
  
Renjun angrily swipes the milk tea off the table and downs it with the same gusto.  
  
Jeno chuckles. “You seem angry.”  
  
After successfully rage-drinking, he lays his chin on the table, still half-heartedly sneering at the elective schoolwork that did not make sense to him at all. “Because I am.”  
  
“Is it because of Jaemin not inviting you to his soccer practice?”  
  
Jaemin, right off the bat. As if he’s the focal point of all his emotional glitches. “I’m not shallow.”  
  
Jeno is still not looking at him, eyes fixed on the highlighted text across his notebook. As if this entire issue is not as important as revision.  
  
“Then why are you upset?”  
  
“Maybe I hate life.”  
  
Jeno sucks his teeth, scribbling outlines faster than ever. “No, you don’t.”  
  
He’s right. Renjun doesn’t. Life can fuck you over and over but it’ll still be too beautiful, bittersweet and unpredictable to hate. He grew up with that idea drilled into his head; life sucks but you can use a little “suck” to appreciate life.  
  
That came off differently than what he expected. But points have been made and he’s living by that line to this day.  
  
His jaw is starting to hurt but he puckers his lips even more so to reign in the slightest attention from his best friend. Jeno gives him a split-second glance, before digging his nose unto another open page without so much as a comment. It’s the easiest to act this way around Jeno because he’s the least fussy about Renjun’s atypical display of cuteness. Donghyuck teases the heck out of him (he only needs one time to know he does not want that to happen again) and Jaemin . . . no. Not around Jaemin. Everyone but Jaemin.  
  
“I’m assuming it’s not something I can help you with?”  
  
Renjun shrugs, straightening up. “It’s about a deadline. Right in the middle of an art block.”  
  
_“I know_ , it sucks,” Jeno sympathizes, groaning. “Even worse is when you lose the lights completely halfway through.”  
  
Jeno’s probably talking about another kind of block, the writing kind since he’s into that instead of art but those things are practically the same. Huge pains in the ass.  
  
A usual, tactical approach around art blocks is his usual “draw everything you see, draw everything you want, just draw _something_ ” but it’s one of the more difficult kinds of blocks, the one that Renjun can’t even shit-draw himself out of. He’s tried splashing an entire easel with a few good paint to kick start himself, maybe stir inspiration for a longer term but none of the splutters called to him. They were just spots of meaningless color mocking him, a short horror story true to every artist out there.  
  
Renjun knows he needed to get out with his Polaroid camera or his trusty Canon. Photography has helped him take a few steps back just to clear his head and nature has never failed him through the most difficult of blocks. It’s just that finals are fast approaching and the only time he ever gets to get out to stare at green grass is to watch Jaemin’s soccer practice, which he can’t even afford to do so regularly anymore due to a shitload of schoolwork.  
  
So now he’s twice as out of his element with little time to mope or gather his shit together.  
  
Renjun’s not dramatic. He went through tougher times before, going as far as dissociating himself through them just to keep himself sane. It wasn’t the best experience for him, nor to everyone around him but it helped him at least. It’s just . . . there’s this odd feeling of longing. Of craving.  
  
And though he knows very well how to handle blocks, he finds himself utterly lost bearing this ridiculous feeling.  
  
He sees him everyday. He talks to him everyday. But college is not only fond of messing with their minds but also with their social life, forcing them to actually hang out in lesser periods of time as usually less frequently throughout the week. They can schedule a group study much like this one, but with the loads they need to get done in that short time, there’s not enough for the staring, for the actual basking in Jaemin’s presence.  
  
God, there’s a lot of contradiction going on inside him right now with little time to get them sorted, so he sets off in weird ways. He pouts when he normally doesn’t. He gets mad to absolutely no one in particular. He rage-drinks milk teas. He hangs out with Jeno. He can already feel his block worsening the more disarray stirs.  
  
Renjun thumbs the bracelet again, sighing.  
  
Jeno shifts his eyes down to his fingers, shaking his head. “Or you can just say you miss him out loud. It can’t hurt.”  
  
No. But words make it much more real and the ambiguity of where that simple gesture can lead him to is frightening.  
  
Renjun stops and pockets the bracelet, pushing those thoughts aside when he can almost feel his pending work glaring at him. “I wonder what’s taking them so long.”  
  
“Classic Renjun, a master of deflecting.”  
  
A few minutes later, the café’s chimes go off as the door to it swings open. Thankfully, he still has enough pride in himself not to turn so fast and give himself whiplash, nonchalantly doing so and spotting Donghyuck and Jaemin enter and walk over to their table.  
  
Renjun’s eyes fall to Jaemin’s wrist by default, smiling lazily when he sees the silver’s shine.  
  
“You guys are late,” Jeno says, not bothering to look up at all.  
  
Donghyuck takes the seat next to Renjun as Jaemin takes the one next to Jeno right across from theirs. Peering down onto Renjun’s almost bare notes, Donghyuck snorts. “He’s not even working.”  
  
“It’s a work in progress.” Renjun clears his throat, then frowns at Jaemin who hunches over the table, burying his head into his crossed arms. “What happened to him?”  
  
“Poor guy overworked,” Donghyuck answers, taking out his portfolio and highlighters. “That’s what you get for playing sweaty sports. He’s been whining my ears off since I picked him up from school.”  
  
Jaemin’s groans are muffled from under the tangle of his arms. Donghyuck proceeds to skim through his notes along with Jeno who begins supplying pointers to him. In a matter of minutes, both are engaged in an intense discussion of history and Joseon dynasty but all Renjun’s concerned about is the passed out guy across him.  
  
“I want to sit next to Jeno so I can whack him right,” Donghyuck whines, tapping Jaemin’s shoulder. “Switch places with me Na.”  
  
Jaemin groans, sitting up. His face is so much more tired than his posture, eyes sunken and lips almost pale. He sluggishly gets off his seat and slips next to Renjun without so much as a “hey” and goes back again to napping on his arms.  
  
Then, Renjun does the unthinkable.  
  
He grips Jaemin’s waist and tugs his trunk close, delicately placing his arm over his back and treading his fingers softly through Jaemin’s hair in a soothing rhythm. Renjun half-expects his friends to notice it, but both his friends are too deep into their argument to even glance at him. Feeling a bit more daring, he presses a quick yet soft kiss onto Jaemin’s hair and peels away before either of them notices.  
  
When it goes disregarded, he fights off the smiles his lips are threatening to bloom, maintaining the rhythm he sets with his fingers through the soft locks in hopes to get the silent message across.  
  
Jaemin finally stirs from under his touch and a drowsy eye peeks through his arm to look up at him. Renjun looks down and smiles as innocently as he can, tugging onto a few strands. Jaemin resettles as he snakes an arm under the table and clasps about Renjun’s side. The smaller catches on, taking his hand to intertwine their fingers together and caress lines along his knuckles. His thumb hits the cuff around Jaemin’s arm and he loses control over his smile, cleverly passing it off as amusement at something from outside the café.  
  
Jeno and Donghyuck don’t notice anything at all as Jaemin falls asleep and Renjun registers only a third of what they rambled on, while the rest of his thoughts are of the sleeping guy’s and his warm, bony hand.  


 

 

 

 

 

> **V.**

  
  
Jaemin wears the bracelet to bed.  At least, that’s what Renjun thinks.  
  
“Renjunnie." He yawns. “Good morning.”

  
The silver around his wrist glitters the same greeting at Renjun. He’s wearing it in bed? _Does he ever take it off?_  
  
Taking his own eyes off it, he holds up the take out bags of Chinese food. “I need help on a drawing.”  
  
“This early?”  
  
“Yes,” Renjun replies, ducking past him straight into one corner of the room where they store extra utensils. “Come on. Show some enthusiasm, I bought your favorite Chinese food.”  
  
Jaemin mumbles something like a weak “yay” before sinking unto the love seat at a corner and rubbing his eyes. “But it’s like, 7 am.”  
  
Yes, Renjun is aware. And he has been very weak, succumbing to the calls of his instincts instead of listening to what his brain says. It’s already too late when he realizes his body took him strolling down the dorm’s street and heading up to his shared unit with Jeno with a takeout of Chinese food.  
  
He takes the food for three out and sets them onto a desk. “I could go back tomorrow. If you want.”  
  
“No, no. You’re already here. Might as well . . .” Jaemin yawns again, blinking. “do what I can to help.”  
  
“You don’t have to do anything. You just need to sleep for me.”  
  
Jaemin looks spent. “Come again?”  
  
“Sleep,” Renjun answers. “Then I’ll draw you.”  
  
It must’ve been too much for Jaemin’s sleep-induced brain because he lags for a few minutes, before cracking a, “What?”  
  
“It’ll be chill. You don’t have to worry at all. I’ll wake you up in time for breakfast and when I’m done. I’ll even show you my work if it makes you feel better.”  
  
“W-Why me?” He ruffles his hair hopelessly to a more decent shape. “I won’t look good I just woke up and—” He blinks again. “You want _me_ to be your muse?”  
  
“It’ll be fun,” Renjun says simply, scooping his stuff out of his bag. “Now, get back in bed.”  
  
“Wait how are you supposed to . . .” Jaemin looks around and points at the loft beds propped against opposite walls in their room, one for him and one for Jeno.  
  
Renjun scoops his sketchbook and art kit into his arms, “I’ll go up there with you if you don’t mind. We’ll fit if we don’t move so much.”  
  
“Up there. In my bed. _With me_.”  
  
“Unless you want me to sketch Jeno instead?” Renjun looks up at Jeno’s bed. “I mean I can but he’s asleep. You can just keep it a secret—”  
  
“No, no, I mean. Sure. Okay. Hold on, let me just climb up first.” Jaemin heaves himself up the ladder hinged at the side of the loft, and reaches out for Renjun’s hand. He gives his art kit instead, clambering up the steps.  
  
The actual mattress is thankfully a wee bit bigger than what Renjun imagined, big enough to accommodate their sizes. It’s also a good thing they’re not as packed as Jeno, or else this would’ve been very awkward.  
  
Jaemin laughs first, soft and low as he shifts around to lay comfortably. “This is weird.”  
  
“Oh. Sorry. I was just desperate to draw you in your natural habitat.”  
  
Jaemin laughs again, a tad bit louder this time. “No, it’s okay. I just don’t know how to fall asleep with you up here.”  
  
“I see. I’m a distraction,” Renjun says then _tsks_. “This was a bad idea. Sorry.”  
  
“No, no.” Jaemin grins lazily. “I meant, in a good way.”  
  
Renjun hums, trying to appear smaller than he already is as he tucks his legs under his butt. “You’re wearing that bracelet in bed.”  
  
Through once again droopy eyes, Jaemin glances at his wrist. “I only take it off when I shower. You . . . you don’t ever wear yours.” His tone is supposed to be accusatory, but as his eyes flutters and his mind sinks into the first stages of sleep due to exhaustion and the early Saturday morning air, it lacks the bite it needs.  
  
It doesn’t mean it did less on Renjun than Jaemin what intended though, because that makes him think.  
  
It’s not like he hates the bracelet so much. He actually keeps it in his pocket at all times, just not around his wrist for everyone to see. For Jaemin to see. He likes to think of it as sort of control over the situation. That when the time comes Jaemin finds another trinket with someone he can treasure as much as this one, Renjun can shrug it off and act as if it never happened.  
  
Now that he thinks about it, he’s been a total jerk to him.  
  
“I’ll wear it,” Renjun idiotically says to the drifting Jaemin.  
  
His lips curl slightly before they completely relax and his breathing evens out.  
  
Renjun takes this moment to do what he plans on doing, sketching the taller while he sleeps and pointedly ignoring Jeno’s shocked eyes the moment he wakes up. He sends a quick “shhh” over at his other best friend as he sinks to cradle Jaemin in his arms and hum a lullaby to him, with the mantra:  
  
Backhugs are normal, cheek kisses no longer shockers. So why does cuddling your best friend and kissing his hair any different?  
  
  
  
  
  
(“Donghyuck would love to hear all about this,” Jeno teases quietly, kindly considering his burned out sleeping best friend. He’s so sweet.  
  
Renjun hisses another harsh shush at him, to which he replies with a cackle.  
  
Jeno totally deserves that sketchbook straight into his face for being so loud.)  
  


 

 

 

 

 

> **\+ I.**

  
  
Jaemin doesn’t wear the bracelet to the frat party Donghyuck dragged them to.  
  
But Renjun does. Which comes off as a bolt from the blue for him the moment he catches the rose gold under the neon lights so much that he has to stop breathing to gawk at the once in a lifetime occurrence (not really but it might as well be).  
  
Because wow. Renjun is actually wearing his bracelet. Finally.  
  
_Finally_.  
  
Renjun strides up to Yukhei, who’s previously engaged in a conversation with Jaemin. “Yukhei. I see you’ve met Jaemin.”  
  
“Oh, hey! RJ! Yeah! Jeno introduced us, the good man. Ran a little late, didn’t you?”  
  
Renjun shrugs. “Donghyuck got carried away with the getup.”  
  
For the first time, Jaemin notices the marvel before him after a discrete once over. Standing a few feet from him is, as corny as this sounds, the embodiment of his wildest dreams. (Not that—it’s not—well . . . )  
  
Huang Renjun is a “tiny man” yet for tonight, his usually short legs are clad under skin-tight jeans, forming an illusion they're longer, a turtleneck peeks out from under the denims. His hair’s down like dark silky curtains just over his glitter-peppered eyes, with accurate lines below them. He’s wearing lip gloss, too. Wow.  
  
Jaemin snaps back when he hears Yukhei’s fervent compliments, boldly walking around Renjun with appreciative eyes.  
  
The grip he has around his Coke tightens.  
  
“ _Very_ good." Yukhei nods. “Where’s this Donghyuck friend of yours, I want to meet them.”  
  
“Probably out there hanging out with Jeno or Mark,” Renjun answers. “But you’ll definitely see him soon. He’s gonna like you.”  
  
“Who _wouldn’t_?” Yukhei laughs out like he just made the funniest joke in the world and chugs down the entire contents of his red cup. He reels and gestures for more before facing Jaemin once again. “So! Where were we?”  
  
“Uh . . .”  
  
“Mind if I join in?” Renjun asks, settling next to Yukhei on a stool. “I’m supposed to watch out for Jaemin in case he drinks too much.”  
  
“Oh this isn’t alcohol. It’s . . .” Jaemin falters when Renjun arches a brow at him and smiles.  
  
Oh God. That smile.  
  
Yukhei burps. “Nah, I don’t mind at all, Renjunnie you whole cutie. So . . . _Nana_. Any interests besides soccer?”  
  
“Nothing lasting except soccer.” _And Renjun._ “But uh, dancing I guess. I went to  a few classes in the last six months.”  
  
“Ohhhh!” Yukhei’s eyes widen into brown saucers, big and fragile-looking. It’s actually a good look on him. Jaemin’s just not sure if he’s overruled by intoxication or that’s just how he normally is. It’s a bit hard to tell because it could easily be both. “ _Dancing_! Hey, I dance too!”  
  
He starts rambling about ballet lessons and hip hop dancing lessons and how everything all at once is gonna break his body soon. Judging from the bulk of his arms and the tautness of that shirt around his trunk, it’s safe to say dancing is not the only exercise this guy does. In comparison to Jaemin’s still growing, skinny arms, it’s very hard to believe they’re only a year apart. Jaemin’s height is his saving grace. If he was any shorter much like Renjun, he’d look like a child next to Yukhei at full height.  
  
Speaking of Renjun . . . why is he staring at him like that?  
  
Somewhere between the protein shake talks and the little puppets Yukhei used to own when he was a kid, Jaemin’s mind drifts to the most interesting spectacle as of the moment. Yukhei’s nice and handsome, he really is, and he’s funny too but it’s amazing how easy it is for Renjun to overshadow Jaemin’s usual preference for the funny and the loud with just a rake of his fingers through his hair.  
  
The gesture punches Jaemin straight up the nose, his brain reeling from both the flashing strobe lights to the aftershock of Renjun’s spontaneous display of attractiveness that he can barely catch onto any word Yukhei’s saying over the throbbing music, sliding into his one ear and out the other.  
  
_Ugh. Nana. You huge weakling._  
  
It’s all needless nodding after that as Yukhei continues to drone on about his too many wrong turns in Seoul which led to an assortment of hilarious experiences Jaemin has long since tuned out. His perfectly sober mind has become intoxicated with the thought of Renjun.  
  
Renjun is all he sees now.  
  
Which is unfair and absurd because the guy barely does anything other than mess his hair up (prettily) and drink from his red cup. He occasionally looks around to marvel at every movement inside the house with a hint of interest. He looks up halfway through his cup and catches him looking, arching his brow again this time in question.  
  
Jaemin smiles, and thinks he suddenly wants him all to himself now. Right now. Or else, he’s gonna burst into flames. Yukhei laughs abruptly and Jaemin laughs shakily with him, completely clueless on what they’re supposed to find amusing. “That’s funny, that’s funny.”  
  
Yukhei’s grin doesn’t falter. “It’s really not. I can tell you’re not listening at all.”  
  
“S-Sorry.” Jaemin blushes, just in time as Renjun looks at both of them.  
  
“Let me leave you guys to it, then.” Yukhei heaves off his stool, cup in hand. He pats Jaemin’s back a bit too hard, leaning in. “My friend Renjun will probably like the more peaceful part of the party. I suggest you take him there. Go get ‘em tiger. WOW, always wanted to say that to someone. Toodle-pip, you pip-toodle!” He wobbles off, drunkenly greeting someone else enthusiastically.  
  
Renjun giggles from the side. “He’s so extra.”  
  
“Uh, wanna go somewhere else?” he asks.  
  
“Hmm? Yeah, yeah.” Renjun looks relieved, bouncing off his stool. “Let’s go out.”  
  
They manage to weave their way through the front door and out to the cold patio. Jaemin silently thanks Jeno for his persistence to make him wear an orange hoodie for the chilly night.  It looks good enough on him, thank goodness, and at the same time, comfortable enough to actually protect himself from the chill. And with luck, hopefully someone else too.  
  
They sit on the hammock swinging listlessly in the wind with Jaemin’s arm around Renjun’s waist and the smaller tucked in close to his side. The hammock is actually big enough to lodge both of them, so it must’ve looked like a huge cuddle session from another standpoint with their limbs in hopeless mesh.  
  
It’s not the first time Jaemin has mustered enough courage to cuddle Renjun. On a daily basis, his mundane courage is enough to get him somewhere from holding Renjun’s hand to leaning his head against his shoulder without causing much fuss.  
  
Maybe it’s because of the hazy dream he had the other day that's compelling him to be twice as brave. His dream of Renjun’s scent and arms around him, lulling him to sleep. Maybe it’s the fact that Renjun has finally decided to wear the bracelet. Maybe it's the way Renjun bites his lips after looking at Jaemin's.  
  
Maybe it’s the fact that he no longer cares what happens next.  
  
Maybe because he’s somehow sure what will.  
  
“So. No bracelet tonight.” Renjun hums.  
  
Jaemin laughs at his reproachful tone. “Now you know how you make me feel.”  
  
“It sucks.”  
  
“Right?”  
  
“But you need a little “suck” to appreciate the good things.” Renjun holds up his wrist. The rose gold glints pale blue-ish under the moonlight casting over the patio.  
  
His mind short-circuits, frowning. “What suck?”  
  
“I didn’t—It’s not what—” Renjun flushes under the same ethereal light. For the first time. “That’s not what I mean.”  
  
Jaemin laughs again. “I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
“I _meant_.” Renjun stands up, his sneers disappearing. “I’m sorry you had to go through so much sucky moments because of me. You don’t deserve that. You deserve to be appreciated.”  
  
Jaemin nods along. “Right. Right. _Thank you."_  
  
“That also means I’m keeping this on,” Renjun says, pointing at the bracelet. “And I’ll appreciate you more from now on and will not let you do all the work alone.”  
  
Jaemin nods like a bobble head. “That’s more like it. I like that—”  
  
It only takes a pair of soft, wet lips cutting him off for Jaemin to forget how to breathe. It only takes one Renjun to do that. His chin tingles with a guiding finger, tilting up just to get to the right angle. When he gets there, he gives as much as Renjun asks, sweetly and slowly. Another hand creeps up the back of Jaemin’s neck and he opens his mouth.  
  
Jaemin is ready to give. He has been always like this. And for what seems like the first time, Renjun returns everything. Everything all at once. He can feel his lungs catch fire and his skin crawl.  
  
_Yup. I called it._ He’s meant to do that sometime into the night but Renjun beats him to it. _But I totally called it._  
  
Renjun peels away after a few minutes, huffing softly. “Like that.”  
  
Jaemin swallows with his eyes wooly, lips moist with the gloss from the smaller’s lips. He’s breathing down his face, not completely leaning away. Not totally out of his reach yet. With the grip he has on Jaemin’s neck, it’s easy to say he’s doesn’t want to be. “I-I like that too.”  
  
They give and return again. And again. With Renjun on his lap this time, and his arms around his waist.  
  
And again. And again.  
  
Until Donghyuck finds them out and busy on the hammock, letting out the loudest shrill of all time. _“Oh shit. Jeno! I called it! I was right!”_  
  
  
  
  
  
(Even as a boyfriend, Renjun always forgets to wear the bracelet. Of course he does. But at least he remembers to make up for it in ways Jaemin would graciously appreciate.)

**Author's Note:**

> [stares off into the distance, sipping coffee] mom, i honestly tried.
> 
>  
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/meoksin)


End file.
